Jazz's Muse
by Grifen345
Summary: AU: The stressed out Meister of Polyhex might just receive the miracle he was praying for.


Jazz walked into his home with his head hanging low.

Turning the lights on as he traveled to the kitchen, the exhausted composer groaned and helped himself to some High-grade he had waiting in the fridge. Slowly, Jazz moved to the couch, sipping at the cube in his hand as he tried to let its fuzzy effect take over his processor.

It had been an incredibly frustrating solar cycle. Scratch that, the entire orn had been frustrating. He had to compose a symphony and it had to sound just right. But there was just this_ little something_, this _little bit_ that was off. And as hard as he could, he simply could not put his servo on just exactly what it was that was making his masterpiece so perfect in head, but just not getting expressed in the final product.

When he had received the honor of being promoted to the title of Meister of Polyhex, Jazz had known that his life would be getting much more difficult, but this was getting ridiculous. The Meister of Polyhex was considered to be the most musically talented mech of Polyhex, a city which was considered to be the musical center of Cybertron. As such, Jazz was expected to perform brilliant, original masterpieces on a regular basis. No pressure, right?

Right now he had to perform in less than a meta cycle at the Prime's Concert Hall. The building was easily the most complex and exquisite piece of architecture ever built in Polyhex. So it was only right that such a magnificent building only be used for the most magnificent of gatherings. A gala; the biggest political social event to be arranged in decades.

Foreign dignitaries from Iacon, Praxus, Tyger Pax, frag, even some officials from Kaon and Vos had somehow managed to have been convinced to come. Most importantly the Prime himself was attending and if Sentinel Prime didn't like what Jazz had to show, then it could quite possibly be the downfall of Jazz's carrier and ultimately his life.

In Polyhex the cast system was cruel and unforgiving. It took an enormous amount of work, talent, and blind luck to make a 'somebody' out of yourself and it only took one word from some high-up to make sure you never had another credit to your name. It was a harsh system, but it rooted out the best of the best, making Polyhex famous for its population of mechs with outstanding talent. To say it plainly, Jazz had his entire world riding on impressing on this one, single performance.

Sighing, Jazz looked at the now empty cube in his hand. The high grade had done nothing to help his nerves. Maybe some relaxation and good, soothing music would do the trick.

But it just irked him so _badly_.

Jazz abruptly stood up and threw the empty cube as hard as he could at the wall. He just had to get this one right. After metacycles of no inspiration his muse had finally managed to grace him with what Jazz thought would be his greatest masterpiece ever! And now that dream was falling apart!

"WHAT IS MISSIN'!" Jazz howled his frustration at the wall. "What am Ah not finding?! Why can't Ah find the right...the right...Aaaahh! Ah can't even describe it! It's jus' not right. It jus' don't sound right."

Well that was that, it was hopeless. "Migh' as well try not to take it out the wall," Jazz muttered and bent down to gather the thrown cube.

Picking it up Jazz returned it to the kitchen. 'It's all no use. Nothing can save meh from da' fire now.' he thought.

Jazz somehow convinced his heavy pedes to move him into his berthroom. It was if his unfinished symphony was sapping his strength. It played over and over in his helm. Flawless, perfect in every way. Taunting him now as it danced around. Looking around all Jazz could see were music notes. Floating in the air, written on the walls and floors. "Ah know!" he yelled to the floating marks, "Ah know what ya are trying to tell meh! It's all Ah can hear! Leave meh alone!"

But no, they simply continue to hang there. Motionless, silent, yet laughing. Laughter only he could hear.

Then, something glinted in the corner of his eye, breaking his concentration on the mirthful notes. Crouching down so he could get a better look, Jazz saw a sliver of white under his berth.

The notes completely forgotten now, Jazz bent down so he could retrieve his prize. "Well what migh' you be?" he asked under his breath.

Reaching under the berth Jazz grasped at the bit of material and pulled it out. It was a crimson violin bow. Inspecting it, he could tell that even as a simple bow it really was a work of art. But there was no white on it. So then what was it he had seen? Jazz put the bow on top of his berth before bending down so he could see better under the berth. Jazz could not help the soft gasp that escaped his lips as he saw the wonder that was hiding there. Reaching and carefully extracting it, Jazz pulled out what could quite possibly be the most beautiful violin he had ever seen. The body was a pure, glossy white and the fingerboard a deep, mesmerizing, ebony black. Jazz sat down on his berth, mindful not to accidently crush the red bow he had already placed there.

Inspecting the violin and bow closely he could truly see the pure genius and artistry that lay on his servos. Turning it over gingerly in his hands Jazz caught sight of a small engraving. Pulling the instrument closer to his visor, he could just make out the name glyph inscribed on the back of violin.

Prowl


End file.
